Warehouse 13: Echo
by A Rhea King
Summary: A restless artifact creates a duplicate, and now the team has to figure out where the duplicate has disappeared.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The black SUV hummed along the back, half paved, South Dakota road. Inside, Pete was steering with one hand and trying to pull the wrapper on a hamburger back with the other.

He asked Myka sitting in the passenger seat, "So you wouldn't want a mini-Myka running around, not ever?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

"Man I do. I want at least four mini-me's to yell at and get to soccer and ballet and whatever else. I'd love it."

Myka grabbed his hamburger away, folded back the wrapper, and shoved it back in his waiting hand. Pete turned off the road and pulled to a stop at the Warehouse gate.

Myka got out and opened the gate. He crept through and when he was past the gate, kept creeping. He watched Myka hurry to shut the gate and then run after the SUV. She threw the door open and with a couple hops was inside the SUV. He was grimacing before the punch landed on his arm.

"Jerk!" she told him.

He grinned, giving the vehicle some gas.

"I wouldn't be a good mother. Kids are so chaotic," Myka told him. "And demanding. I don't know if I could be that selfless."

"I think you could. In fact, I think you would be an awesome mom." Pete scarfed the last bite of hamburger, waded the paper and put it in his jacket pocket.

"You do?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah! You already take care of all of us. A mini-me does mean you'd have to make more time for them, but I think you have it in you."

She looked away. "Thanks, Pete."

The road rattled the SUV. She glanced to the back.

"Easy there. I don't think we'll be forgiven if we break this thing."

"And there's the seven years bad luck."

"Superstitious much?"

"Yes."

"I'm waiting for the day you tell me camera's steal your soul."

They came down a hill and parked in front of the Warehouse. The two got out and Pete opened the back. From the back Together they pulled a large full length mirror shrouded in moving blankets. With Pete at the front and Myka at the back, they headed inside.

Pete shook his head. "That's just a lie. They don't steal your soul. They make you look ten pounds heavier."

"That I won't argue with that!" Myka said.

Pete stopped at the office door and punched in the code. It opened with a beep and they walked in. Artie was at his desk and only glanced up.

"Mirror aisle. Any trouble?" he asked.

"No problemo," Pete answered with Myka's, "No trouble."

"That museum director practically threw the mirror at us," Myka added. "She said she never wanted to see it again."

"She say why?"

"She felt like it was always watching her," Pete answered. "I think she was a little loopy. I mean… Have you ever been to National Museum of Health and Medicine? That place is just… Weird!"

Pete stopped to open the back door.

"Says Mr. Superstition," Myka jabbed.

"You say that now. Wait until something crazy happens in your life because of superstition and I'll get the last laugh."

"I have crazy things happen most days of my life with this job, and it's because of artifact, not superstition."

"Don't forget to face it away from the other mirrors and uncover it before you leave," Artie explained. "They get unhappy if they can't reflect the world around them and cause all kinds of problems."

Myka pulled Pete to a stop and looked back at Artie. "They get unhappy? Mirrors get unhappy?"

"Yes. Mirrors like to see the world, that's what they were designed for. If you keep them covered, they act out."

Pete turned to look back at Myka with a knowing grin.

"Oh shut up," she told him.

Pete laughed.

"And hurry back. We have to leave in a few hours," Artie told them.

They stopped outside the door.

"Leave?" Pete asked.

"Yes. There is a ping in Rapid City. We three are going to find it."

"No! Artie, take Claudia and Steve," Pete said.

"I'm taking you two. Hurry back."

"But I have pla—"

A sharp Artie–said–silence look stopped Pete's argument. He pulled Myka into a walk. She smiled at Artie.

"Be back in a flash," she told him as she was pulled out of sight.

Artie went back to his work.

#

Pete pulled the cart into the mirror aisle. All the mirrors faced a plain gray painted wall. He parked at the end of the line and the two got out. The two put together a stand first, and then slid the mirror into it. The two donned gloves and started to unwrap the packing blankets. One fell across Myka. She pulled it off, tossing it in the cart. Pete picked up the other blankets and turned. He started chuckling.

"Nice do, Mykes."

She walked in front of the mirror and smiled. The static electricity made her hair stand up on end. She was smoothing it down when she noticed something about the mirror.

"Pete."

"Yeah?" He was folding the packing blankets and putting them in the back of the cart.

"Remember that one diamond that was lit when we picked this up?"

"Yeah?"

"It's flashing."

Pete turned, looking at the diamond at the top. Two rows of four diamonds decorated the top, and the bottom right one was slowly pulsing.

"You read the card for this thing and said it didn't mention the jewels or lights. Did it mention pulsing lights?"

"No. Maybe we should tell Artie."

"Sure," Pete answered, sounding distracted.

Myka turned, missing a ripple across the mirror's surface like a drop of water had hit it. Pete was almost done with the blanket. She turned back and finished straightening her hair. She froze when the surface rippled.

"The mirror is rippling."

"So does that wood one and that gold one at the very end." Pete said, pointing down the row at two other mirrors.

She looked at them, then the new one. "I wonder why they do that."

"They are artifacts. Wondering will only hurt your head." Pete climbed into the cart. "And if her beautiness is done beautifying herself, can we go?"

Myka sat down on the passenger side. He gunned it, heading around the aisle and back to the office.

"Second Tuesday of the month," Myka said. "I just realized that."

"Huh?" he asked.

"Today is the second Tuesday of the month. You and Janie always have supper the second Tuesday of the month, and the third Sunday of the month."

"And?"

"Nothing. I think it's sweet."

"You do not think it's sweet. You don't even like Janie!"

"I like Janie. I think you maybe father her a little too much, but I like her."

"You are always telling me everything she's doing wrong. You… You mother her!"

Their argument faded as they drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The noises of the Warehouse were lost in the expanse of the building. Things ticked. Things whirred. Things whooshed, zipped, zoomed, tapped, and made other comical sounds. Every so often several sounds occurred together, like a cartoon had just raced through the building. But one sound that only happened when the humans was present were 'dings.' Had a human been in the Warehouse, near the mirror aisle, they would have been curious as to why there was the soft, barely noticeable, ding.

The new mirror had made the sound.

Slowly the pulsing light in the last diamond faded out. The surface of the mirror continued to ripple as invisible drops of water hit it. The invisible drops increased until the entire surface was quivering with non-stop ripples.

A shapeless form pressed against the surface. Slowly it took on a human form until it became evident it was a human female. It pushed against the surface, becoming more and more frantic to find a way out. Suddenly the silver surface split, allowing the human to tumble onto the floor. Immediately the surface self-healed and the rippling stopped.

Moister clung to the woman's body and hair. Her face hidden under a mass of long black curls. She gasped and gulped like a fish out of water. But the air did not kill her. Her body adjusted and the gasping, gulping subsided until she her breathing was normal. Exhausted from her birth into the world she was soon softly snoring in her sleep.

* * *

Steve and Claudia walked into the office, armed with large coffees and yawns. Trailer jumped up and ran to greet them, getting pets and smiles from both.

"You want me to take him out?" Claudia asked.

"I'll do it. You may as well get started on finding the artifacts Artie wanted before he got back – today."

"Hey. He told me they would be gone for three days. I just assumed, you know, it would actually be three days. Not one."

Steve rolled his eyes at her. "Good thing I have a report to finish or you'd be walking here this morning."

Claudia walked over to the desk and fished a list from the papers. "Artie, Artie. You need a secretary."

"He has you."

"Oh!" Claudia spun around.

He lifted a finger and made a sizzle noise as he wrote five in the air. "Five to one today. Five to one."

She grinned as she backed toward the door behind her. "It is so on, Jinksy. When I get back here, I will zing you into oblivion."

Steve started backing toward the opposite door. "Bring it on, girlfriend!"

"Oh it will be brought!"

The two left through their respective doors.

"Trailer!" Steve called. "Come on buddy!"

The dog ran after him.

* * *

The woman from the mirror twitched as she woke. She was cold and shivering from a night spent on the cement floor. She coughed a couple times and then made movements like she was swimming until she rested her hands on the floor and stared at them through her long black bangs. Slowly she worked at getting onto her hands and knees, but her muscles weren't quite ready to agree and she fell.

She tried again and again until she could hold her weight. She tried standing but this was also work that resulted in several falls. Each one made her cry a little more. Then, suddenly, she was on her feet with one hand wrapped tightly around the ledge of shelf. With unsure strokes, she brushed her hair out of her face, revealing Myka's face.

She took tentative steps on stiff legs. She stopped when she was standing in front of the mirror, staring at her face and naked body. She touched the mirror. It rippled. All the gems were now lit with one at the bottom flashed. She touched a couple. She touched the mirror surface again and it zapped her this time. She jumped and fell. She started crying, holding her red elbow. She got back on her feet and staggered away. The pain and tears were soon lost in awe of the sights inside Warehouse 13.

* * *

Claudia pushed a shopping cart ahead of her, comparing her list to the items as she passed them. With gloved hands she took an item down, placing it in the cart. She actually loved gathering artifacts – it gave her a chance to remember old ones, learn about new ones, and some quality alone time.

She stopped, listening. She heard someone giggle.

"Hello?" Claudia called out.

No one answered. And the giggling didn't stop.

"This is not at all creepy," Claudia told herself.

She parked the shopping cart and went in search of the giggling. Following it she realized it wasn't very loud to begin with. When she finally found it, she froze and stared.

Myka sat on the floor playing with one of the artifacts. It was a music box that created holographs of a person's thoughts. Claudia had personal experience with this particular music box. From the dark thoughts in Claudia's mind, the music box had pried terrifying holographs which plagued her sleep for weeks. So she found it strange that now the box was showing holographs of itself, of a mirror, a lake, and nothing else. How could Myka not have some recessed memory this box could turn into a nightmare on her?

Claudia backed up on that thought. The music box was the second strangest thing. The first was Myka sitting on the floor naked.

"Myka?" Claudia called out.

She didn't acknowledge Claudia.

"Myka."

Still no response. Claudia walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. She jumped, dropping the music box onto the floor. It crashed against the ledge of the shelves and shattered into millions of pieces. There was a small artifact explosion, signifying the death of the artifact.

The two stared at the shattered music box for a few minutes, and then Claudia remembered Myka was sitting naked on the floor.

She pulled her attention away from the music box. Myka, who was now crouching and playing with the pieces of the music box.

"Myka."

She kept playing so Claudia crouched next to her.

"Are you okay?"

Myka stared at her for a moment. Then she offered pieces to Claudia. Claudia took them, baffled by what was happening.

"You seem a little out of it. Plus, there's the fact that, you know, you're naked."

Myka smiled. She reached out and touched the streak of color in Claudia's hare. Claudia forced a smile and caught her hand. Myka scuttled closer to her, handing her more pieces of the music box.

"Yes. It's broken. Look, uhm, why don't you ask Steve to drive you back to Leena's and get some sleep and maybe some clothes?"

Myka turned back to the pieces, sorting them into little piles. Claudia got up and went to the end of the aisle. She pulled down a lab coat and went back to Myka, holding it out.

"Here. Put this on. Where _are_ you clothes?"

Myka stood, staring at the coat. Then she held her arms out just like Claudia, pretending to grip her own lab coat.

"I am too worn out for games today, Myka. Just put it on."

But Myka didn't. Instead, she giggled. Claudia sighed, put it on her, and buttoned it up.

"Are you drunk?" Claudia asked her.

Myka's attention was on the lab coat and feeling it. Claudia scrubbed her forehead. She grabbed Myka's wrist, getting her attention.

"Go ask Steve to drive you home." Claudia pointed up at the office.

Myka looked in that direction, then back at Claudia.

"Go ask him. You shouldn't be here drunk. If Artie finds out, you'll be on inventory for weeks. You know he doesn't put up with that. Now go."

Myka didn't move.

Claudia gave her a little push toward the office and pointed again. "Go ask Steve to take you home. Sleep it off."

Myka held out her hand to Claudia. With a sigh she held her hand up. Myka put the pieces of the music box in Claudia's hand, and then started walking the direction she had pointed. But it was slow. She stopped to look at artifacts, as if she were browsing a department store. Claudia dropped the piece of the music box with the rest and went in search of a broom and dustpan.

* * *

Steve's mind drifted between the report he was typing and other thoughts – sports, mostly. He had missed several MBA playoffs because of assignments. He paused to think about where he could pick those games up at online.

The Warehouse office door behind him opened and he turned his attention back to work. He didn't want to get caught with his head in the clouds if it was Artie. He listened to the person walk around behind him and then the strangest thing happened: Trailer started growling. Steve turned. Trailer and Myka were staring at each other. The dog was hunched down, creeping toward her as he growled.

"Trailer, what's wrong with you? It's… Myka?" Steve hesitated, now noticing she was wearing only a lab coat and was barefoot. She held several artifacts without gloves: two necklaces, a sparkling white ball gown, and two glass flowers.

She looked at him and that was when the next strange thing happened. He didn't see any recognition in her face – she had no idea who he was.

"Myka, put those things on the couch."

She stared at him.

Steve crept around behind Trailer and motioned her to put the things on the couch. "Put the artifacts on the couch, Myka. Put them down."

She stared at him. He started to repeat himself when she did as he asked. She faced him again, staring at him.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

She didn't answer. He moved around Trailer, talking her arm. She lifted her arm with his hand and picked his hand up in hers. She examined his hand, ran her fingers over callouses on his hand, and tapped his fingernails. She acted like this was the first hand she'd ever seen.

"Myka?" Steve said.

She didn't respond to her name.

"What did you do?" he asked her. But he already guessed he wasn't going to get an answer, just more curious stares.

"Let's get you to Leena's, okay? And get you… Can you tell me what happened to your clothes?"

She didn't answer the question, not that he was surprised by that.

"Come on. Let's get you some clothes and then sort out what's happened to you."

Steve tugged on her arm. She pulled back, her brow dipping.

"Come on, Myka. Come with me." He motioned her to go with him.

Myka resisted when he tried pulling her again. In fact, she started to get upset now. She tried to pull his hand off and he ended up scratching her arm. She made a sound that was more like a primal scream. She backed away from him, right into Trailer. The dog started barking at her. She backed away from him and he followed. She swung out at Trailer and to Steve's surprise, he bit her hand. He didn't break the skin, but he did leave red indentations.

Claudia ran into the office. "Steve, Myka… Did Trailer just bite Myka?"

"Yeah. Get Trailer out of here. Something is wrong with Myka."

"Yeah? Something is wrong with the Warehouse too."

Claudia grabbed Trailer's collar and pulled him away from Myka.

Steve walked to the back door and stepped onto the balcony. In the distance a cloud was slowly expanding. Electricity from the Warehouse struck it and lighting struck the roof.

"The last time this happened, Pete, Myka, and I accidently disturbed artifacts," Claudia told him.

He went back inside and grabbed Myka's wrist. This time he did not let go when she pulled away. He yanked her into a walk.

"Close the door. Call Artie. I'm taking her to Leena's and I'll be back."

"Got it."

Steve had to fight to get Myka out the front door, down the hall, out of the Warehouse and into his car. She never said a word, only grunted and made primitive sounds. She punched and clawed at him, struggling to get free. In the car he had to wrestle the seatbelt on her and then she clawed at it, trying to get it free. Steve dove across the hood and hurried to get in before she figured out how to unlock it. He headed for Leena's, keeping one worried eye on Myka.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sun hung low in the South Dakota sky. It lit the sky on fire with oranges, reds, pinks, and yellows. The polished black SUV bouncing along the half paved road reflected the colors like a mirror. Behind the wheel Pete was watching the sky more than the road. He still wasn't South Dakota's biggest fan, but he had spent hours quietly watching the sky light on fire and fade away into dark. There was something awesome about it, and how at that moment right before it began to fade, the sky lit up with on last bright flash as if to remind the land it was only heading off to sleep but would be back the next day.

In the passenger seat Artie moved to adjust his position, but continued sleeping. Pete glanced in the rearview mirror. Myka was stretched in the back seat, softly snoring in her sleep. Noticing the turn to the Warehouse was coming up, Pete began to slow. He was hit by a strong bad vibe and hit the brake a little too hard at the gate. The abrupt stop woke Artie. He sat up, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He looked away from the gate to Pete's hard expression.

"What's wrong?" Artie asked.

"Something's wrong at the Warehouse," Pete told him.

Artie didn't question Pete, not with how husky his voice was. And Pete's vibes were never wrong.

"I'll get the gate," Artie told him.

He hopped out and hurried over to the gate. He picked up the chain to unlock it and found it was already unlocked. He pushed the gate open.

His Farnsworth began buzzing. Artie opened it, holding the gate back for Pete to drive through.

Claudia's face appeared on the screen. "Where are you? I need help, Artie."

"What is wrong with the Warehouse?"

Claudia made a wistful face. "I think Myka caused this and she might be drunk. I found her naked and she was playing with an artifact. I sent her up to have Steve take her back and he said she came up here with an armful of artifacts. Now there's an artifact storm brewing and I don't know how to stop it."

"Claudia, Myka went with Pete and me to Rapid City."

Claudia stared at him for several blinks. "Then who did I see and who did I send to Leena's with Steve?"

"I don't know." Artie hurried back to the SUV. "We're at the gate. We'll be there in a few minutes. Call Leena and tell her we need her here to help arrange artifacts as quickly as we can before that storm gets out of control." Artie got in and slammed the door, waking Myka. "Then get us spray cans of neutralizer."

"On it." Claudia disappeared.

"Get us to the Warehouse now, Pete!"

Pete put the SUV in gear and stomped on the gas.

Artie turned in his seat, staring at Myka. "What did you touch?" he asked her.

She stared at him.

"What did you touch, Myka?"

"I was asleep, Artie. What are you talking about?"

"You touched something that cloned you. That clone has upset a lot of artifacts. What did you touch, Myka?"

She shook her head. "I haven't touched anything."

"You must have. There are a hundred things in that Warehouse that can create clones; which one did you touch without gloves?"

"I didn't touch anything, Artie!" Myka insisted.

"You had to have."

"I DIDN'T!" she snapped.

Artie stared at her. He didn't believe her, but he also wasn't going to argue anymore. He turned in his seat. "We have to calm the Warehouse down, then we'll sort this out."

"For Pete's sake, Artie! I did not touch anything that could clone me! I swear to you on my life and anyone else's you want, that I did not touch anything that could clone me!"

Pete glanced at her in the rearview mirror. He knew that look – she was pissed at being accused of something she didn't do, and he believed her. She wasn't as clumsy as he was with artifacts.

* * *

Leena was in the kitchen mixing cookies when Steve came into the room. He drug Myka to a chair and pushed her into it.

"Stay."

She started to get up. He pushed her back in, forcefully ordering, "Stay!"

Myka wasn't about to obey and it took several more attempts before she finally did as she was told.

"What is happening?" Leena asked.

"Myka came into the office carrying a bunch of artifacts and wearing just what you see. She doesn't appear to remember how to talk and she's acting strange. There's a problem at the Warehouse – the artifacts are upset or something – and it's creating a storm."

"Oh no." Leena sat the bowl and spoon in her hand on the counter. "I have to get to the Warehouse."

"No. I need you to stay with Myka."

"You need to stay with Myka. I have to go get artifacts put back where they belong or there's going to be trouble."

"She doesn't like me right now."

"Then treat her nicer," Leena said as she rushed past. "And get her some clothes."

"Leena, I—"

She kept moving, telling him, "If we do not calm the Warehouse down Myka will be the least of our worries. There won't be enough of this place left to worry about!"

Steve sighed, dropping his head. He looked at Myka when she reached across the table. She was poking at the raw cookie dough. She picked some up and smelled it, then put it in her mouth. Finding it tasted good, she pulled the bowl to her and started eating it. Steve quickly pulled it away and she made protesting noises, reaching for it.

"No. It's not good for you until they're baked. Let's get you some clothes, Myka." He grabbed her wrist again.

She pulled back so hard it knocked her chair over and she toppled to the floor. She burst into tears. Steve stared at her. Part of him was having a hard time seeing Myka like this. The other part of him, which finally won, wanted to comfort her. He knelt down and rubbed her arm.

"It's okay. Mykes it's okay. The fall just scared you. You're not hurt."

She moved to him, wrapping her arms around him. Steve sat down and held her while she cried.

* * *

It took everyone to calm the Warehouse down. Artifacts were strewn all over the Warehouse, bunched together on shelves, stacked on crates, or strewn on the floor. It was like a kid had run through the Warehouse and found all the shiniest, prettiest artifacts to play with. After hours they managed to straighten things out and the storm dissipated.

With the last artifact put in place, the five of them sat on the cart and caught their breath. Artie turned to Myka.

Before he could say anything she angrily told him, "I did not touch any damned artifact that could clone me, Artimus!"

That raised eyebrows, including Artie's. He looked at Leena sitting in the seat next to him. She looked away, but her expression said a lot: Serves you right!

Artie sighed, staring down the aisle. "Then explain how Claudia, and Leena, and Steve, have all seen a person identical to you."

"I can't but I did not touch anything."

Pete thought about that. "What about that mirror?"

They looked at him.

"You know. The Hans Dreisch mirror we got from the museum. The one that creates clones if you touch it."

"I did not touch it, Pete," she insisted.

"Well, no, not on purpose, but didn't you say a strand of hair could make it spit out a clone?" Pete asked Artie.

"Yes. I thought you two wrapped it."

"Oh come on!" Pete said. "I mean, there was on exhibit at that place that said we shed pounds of hair and skin every day so it is possible—"

"You read an exhibit at a museum?" Claudia asked.

"Yes I read an exhibit at a museum. So an eyelash or something falls on the mirror, it does its thing and, and BAM-O! A Myka clone pops out."

"Maybe that's why that diamond was glowing," Myka mused.

"I'm sorry?" Artie asked, turning to them. "There was something glowing on the mirror?"

"Yeah. The mirror has four rubies, emeralds, and sapphires on the sides and bottom, and then two rows of four diamonds on the top. When we uncovered it here one of the diamonds was lit with a pulsing light."

"There is no way it could have lights on it. That mirror was created in 1890."

"If you don't believe me, look for yourself," Myka challenged him.

Artie turned in his seat and started driving.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The five stared at the mirror. All the jewels were now lit. On the bottom were emeralds and one was pulsing with light, while the others glowed steadily.

"You said one of the diamonds was pulsing?" Artie asked.

Myka pointed at the one. "That one."

"There is no mention of lights on this mirror. In fact, there's no mention of gems on this mirror on the card about it."

"Maybe they aren't gems," Claudia suggested. "Maybe they're lights that are made to look like gems."

"The curator at the museum told us the lights pulse for a while, then go out, and another one starts pulsing," Pete told him. "The museum curator told us they have records that say about every year and a half all the lights go out, and when they come in the next day they're all back on."

"Is there a pattern?" Artie asked.

Pete shrugged.

"We didn't even know it had lights on it, Artie. That wasn't on the card. Why would we think to ask that? And we gave you the documents from the museum before we left for Rapid City."

"When the lights go out, has anyone noticed anything strange happening?"

"Again, Artie," Pete pointed out, "You sent us on a pick–up. Why would we ask questions like this? What on earth about this mirror would make us investigate it when you said, and I quote, 'This card is all the information we have on the mirror.' And you held up an index card with four lines on it."

"It's your job to ask questions about strange things happening with artifacts," Artie tersely replied.

"Artie, I've seen the card for this," Leena told him, "and even I wouldn't have thought to ask questions about any of this."

Artie sighed, frustrated. "This has to be where the clone came from. I'll deal with her. You three try to figure out what the lights mean."

"Deal with her?" Pete asked.

Artie was on his way back to the cart. He stopped and almost turned around.

"There are protocols in place to deal with clones. I will deal with her."

"What protocols?" Claudia asked.

Artie climbed in the cart and drove away. Claudia looked up at Pete.

"What did he mean _deal with her_?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"She has to be exterminated," Myka quietly answered.

They both looked at Myka. She sighed and looked back at them.

"In the Warehouse handbook, there's a chapter about clones. Because they pose such a high security risk to the Warehouse and a threat to the original person, they have to be exterminated immediately."

"What about the Geneva Convention and all that?" Claudia asked.

"Laws don't cover clones," Leena said, "And neither does the Geneva Convention."

"You three are okay with this happening?" Claudia cried. "How can you be—"

"Sometimes," Pete interrupted, "things are what they are, Claudia. If that clone knows everything Myka knows that puts her, everyone she cares about, and this Warehouse in danger. That does include you and your brother."

Claudia wanted to argue, but the idea that her brother could be put in danger by this clone stopped her. She looked away.

Myka put a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we focus on figuring out the lights on this mirror and how it created a clone without me touching it?"

The four didn't need any more encouragement. Anything to take their mind off what Artie was off to do.

* * *

Steve was on his knees cleaning the last spot of the kitchen when Artie walked in.

"What are you doing?" Artie asked.

"Cleaning up the kitchen."

"Why?"

Steve stood up, facing him. "Because Myka thought it would be fun to run down here and play in it. By the time I got here, it was everywhere. When she gets her mind back, she's going to be really mad, though. The dress she decided to wear is dry–clean only."

Artie cocked his head. "First, that's not Myka. That's a clone of Myka. Second, where is this clone now?"

"In the atrium. I sat her down with paper and some markers. That's a clone of Myka?"

"There is no one in the atrium and the front door was wide open. And yes."

Steve ran to the empty atrium. On the table were several sheets of paper with drawings on them. But that stopped him. He walked up to the table, looking at the pictures. Artie walked up beside him.

"We have to find her, come on."

"I thought when artifacts cloned someone they cloned everything, Artie, including the person's skills.

"They do."

Steve held up a drawing. It was just lines and spots of color. "Myka's drawn sketches of artifacts. They aren't Rembrandt but they are good. This is like a two year old drew this."

"And?"

"And she doesn't talk and she throws tantrums." Steve looked at him. "I know we have the clone protocol, but are you sure this is a clone? I mean she—"

"Yes. Now help me find her."

Steve sat the picture down and followed him outside. The two searched the grounds but didn't find anything. Near the woods at the edge of the property Steve found a drawing. He picked it up, staring into the woods. Artie joined him.

"If she ran into there, we're going to need more people to look for her, Artie." Steve looked at him.

Artie dug out his Farnsworth.

* * *

Wearing a headgear contraption with various magnifying lenses, lights, and different scopes, Claudia slowly examined the back of the mirror. She had wrestled it onto two saw horses so it was at waist height and surprisingly it was as ornate on the back as it was on the front. It didn't hide the wires on the back that ran from each of the jewels to a small battery back, or what she assumed was a battery back. She didn't know how to get it open.

Near the top Claudia noticed some scratches. She switched to a stronger magnification. She examined the spot, noticing a small steam. From the tool belt around her waist she pulled out a small hammer and flathead screw driver. She began working the edge of the screwdriver into the seam and it began to work loose around it. It popped off suddenly.

Claudia lifted the lens from in front of her eye, staring at the clear cylinder lying in the hidden compartment. She put the tools back in her tool belt and pulled it out. She held it up, seeing something was inside the yellow tinted container. She started working on the ends, finally discovering one screwed on but was stuck. She pulled a can of WD-40 out and gave the end a little squirt. She worked the lid a little, sprayed a little, worked a little, and sprayed a little, until she had the lid off. She tapped the opening into her hand and a rolled up piece of old paper slid out.

Claudia gently unrolled the paper, finding it in German. She started reading it and was slowly surprised by what the paper told her


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Myka walked through the trees, listening for any noise. She was focused on listening for a same faced murderer to creep up on her. She was so focused that she nearly missed the crying. Myka stopped and listened, and then followed the sound. She came to the top of a steep slope that ended at the banks of a stream. From the bottom the crying drifted up to her and despite the darkness, she could see something moving below her. Using her flashlight she carefully made her way down the slope, keeping the sobbing to her right and her gun ready to shoot when the prankster leapt out to kill her.

She made it to the bottom of the slope and her flashlight sliced across a hand, a scraped knee, and a shoe. Myka turned the full light on the person and for a moment stared. This was her clone. The woman's long black hair was tangled and knotted with twigs and leaves and dirt – probably from the fall down the slope. She was wearing one of Myka's favorite dresses – a sequined blue dress that she'd found at the back of the thrift store in town. She didn't care that it was cheap, she liked how she felt in it. The woman was wearing the blue high heels she'd bought months later to go with the dress. She also wore a strand of pearls and a strand of costume jewelry that looked like pearls and diamonds.

She was the source of the crying as she shielded her eyes from the light being shined in them. Myka lifted her gun to the flashlight and took aim right between the woman's eyes, or where they'd be when the hand dropped. She moved the light up a little to coax the woman to lift her head. As soon as she did the woman lifted her head, but she didn't drop her hand. She reached out to Myka. First with one hand, then with both.

"What?" Myka asked in a harsh tone.

The woman just reached for her.

"What do you want? Tell me what you want."

The woman didn't. She made primitive noises. She dropped a hand on her leg, above her ankle, but held out the other hand. Myka moved her light down to reveal a darkly bruised and swollen ankle.

"Well, yeah… That's… That's what you get wearing heels out in the woods. What did you think would happen?" Myka asked.

The woman dropped her hands and started crying harder. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, rocking side to side. Myka lowered her light and gun.

This was her clone? This woman wasn't the big threat to her and the Warehouse? At most this clone had ruined Myka's favorite dress and shoes, but she was not the threat Artie had made her out to be. But Artie wasn't wrong very often, so what happened here? Why wasn't this a perfect duplicate of her?

With a heavy sigh Myka put the safety back on her gun and holstered it. There was no way she could shoot this woman who was just sitting her crying and acting like she wanted Myka to hold her.

Myka walked over and crouched next to the ankle. She was startled when the woman latched onto her and tried to pull close. Myka pushed her back.

"I have to wrap your ankle. Sit still."

She tried again.

"No. Stay."

The woman seemed to understand and obeyed. Myka pulled off her scarf and as careful as she could, she wrapped up the ankle. The woman started crying like a child again. Myka finished it off and then stood. She reached under the woman's arms and started to lift, but the woman was dead weight.

"You have to stand with my help."

The woman just sat there, staring at her with wet, wide eyes. Myka crouched and reached out, wiping tears off the familiar face. The tears smeared the dirt, leaving clean streaks. Looking into her own eyes, she saw an innocent child. This clone was literally born yesterday and she knew nothing Myka knew. Myka gently ran her hand down her clone's face and smiled.

"We're going to stand now, okay? You and me together." Myka slid her arm around her clone and this time the lifting worked.

Her clone stood with her and waited while Myka grabbed her high heels and stashed them under a bush. She couldn't carry them and help her clone right now. With more tears and her clone trying to give up, Myka struggled up the slope. At the top she sat her on a log and they caught their breath. Her clone latched onto her leg, not letting her get too far away. Myka smiled, stroking her hair. Her clone laid her head against Myka's hip, getting a tighter grip on her leg.

"You are so innocent," Myka told her.

With the rest over she pried the clone's arm away and helped her back up. The two started for Leena's

Myka's heart leapt, and her clone screamed, when Pete came out of the darkness with his flashlight on them. Myka heard his gun cock.

Myka moved in front of her clone. She felt the woman grab her shoulder and arm and could almost see her cowering behind Myka's back.

"No. We're not shooting her."

"Artie said—"

"She's not a threat. I don't know how, but Artie's wrong about this one."

"You said she knows everything you know and that we had to—"

"No. She doesn't."

"Then she's tricking you, Myka."

Myka felt her clone press closer to her. She was trembling she was so scared of Pete. Myka reached around and pulled her hand off her arm and into her own hand. She looked over her shoulder at her clone, and into terrified eyes. Myka moved a little to the side.

"Do you have a bad vibe right now, Pete?"

He lowered his gun. "No."

"Then look at her face. She's scared and she doesn't know anything, Look at her!"

Pete's flashlight went to the clones face. She turned her head. Pete lowered the light to Myka's chest and she looked back at Pete.

"Are you sure about this, Mykes? I mean, you said there's this protocol and Artie was all set to kill her…"

"I'm sure about this."

Pete lowered the light. "Well… She needs a bath and stuff." He put his gun back his holster and walked up to them. The clone tried to hide behind Myka to keep him away but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"She's cold." Pete let go and took off his coat. Slowly he put it on the woman. "There. Better?"

The woman felt the coat, sniffed it, but didn't speak.

"She really doesn't speak."

"I don't think she knows how. She was literally born yesterday."

Pete laid his hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him with her wide, scared eyes. He smiled and she reflected. She didn't look as scared of him now. He noticed she was barefoot with one ankle wrapped that she was favoring.

"What happened here?"

"She fell down a slope and did something to her ankle."

Pete looked away. "We're about a quarter mile from the house. Let's get her up on my back and get her home."

"On your back?"

"You are not a light woman, Myka. I mean, you're not a heavy woman, but you're not a light woman. What I mean is that—"

"The grave isn't getting any shallower, Pete. Turn around and let's see if we can do this."

It took a lot of work, a lot of showing, but eventually they got the clone on Pete's back and the three started back to the house. The two had to laugh when her clone giggled each time Pete's hand brushed her bare feet.

"Didn't know you were ticklish there," he told Myka.

She just smiled.

"You know Artie is going to be pissed, don't you?" Pete asked her.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I know."

"He's probably going to put us on inventory."

"I like inventory."

"Why am I not surprised?"

The woman laid her head on Pete's shoulder. Myka smiled at her. She reached down to Myka's hand. Myka took it, twining her fingers with the woman's. Pete watched but he didn't make any smart remarks or witty retorts. He just smiled.

* * *

Artie came through the door, spackled with mud, panting and exhausted. He walked through the doorway and stopped. Everyone but Myka was in the sitting room.

"Where is Myka?"

"Upstairs," Leena said.

"She's in bed?"

"No, she's giving her clone a bath and then putting her to bed," Leena said. "It's been a long day for them and us."

"Wh… Wait. The clone is alive?"

"This, Artie, if you didn't recognize it, is an intervention." Claudia told him, and then motioned to the open chair in the room.

"We have protocols for a reason, people!" Artie snapped and headed for the stairs.

"Artimus!" Leena snapped.

He turned around, finding her standing. She motioned at the same chair.

"Sit. Down."

Slowly he obeyed angry Leena. She sat down with them and was the first to begin.

"I understand the protocols more than anyone else here," Leena told him, "But just because one exists, doesn't make it right or mean that we should blindly follow it. Now, Artie, Claudia discovered some things about the mirror while you were searching. Pete and Myka learned some things about the clone. And both of these, combined, means you will listen to them and you are going to make a case to the regents to spare this clones—"

"We're calling her Makayla," Pete told Artie.

"You named it?" Artie growled.

"Yes, Artie. We gave a human being a name," Leena snapped back. "Her own name. Her own identity. Something as unique as she is."

The room stared at Leena.

"I have watched many things happen since I've worked with you Artie. I have watched you blindly follow and obey protocol after protocol. But this time, Artie, there must be an exception. And when you meet Makayla, you will agree."

Artie shifted in his chair. "Why is she unique, Pete?"

He was surprised to be put on the spot but quickly shook it. "Well, she's… She's not Myka. She's more like, a… I don't know. She's different."

"She looks like her, doesn't she? Acts and talks like her? Has the same behaviors and mannerisms? And…" Artie stopped, realizing something that had been said moments earlier. "No. The question of the moment is: why is Myka giving this clone, _Makayla_, a bath?"

"She was filthy," Pete answered. "She was playing in the woods all day, fell down a bank and sprang her ankle. She needed one."

"She is the clone of a—"

"Interruption," Claudia said, stopping Artie. She looked at Pete. "Why don't you start with all the things Kay can do."

"She can barely do anything."

"Exactly. Let's start Artie off there."

"She can walk, seems to understand a handful of words, makes grunt noises, and really likes Myka and Claudia."

"She doesn't have language," Steve interpreted. "She doesn't know any language, English or otherwise."

"How is that possible? Myka can speak four languages."

"That's what we're trying to get across, Artie. She doesn't know anything! She's like… Like grown-up Myka with the mentality of a three–year–old."

"So she was a defective clone. That can happen when—"

"No!" Claudia shook her head. "You aren't listening to what he's saying. Makayla isn't Myka. She's not a defective clone either. She was _literally_ born yesterday." Claudia produced the cylinder with the paper in it. "This mirror is the first artifact I've ever found instructions for. There's a lot about it, but the important stuff is that every four hundred and forty-eight days it builds up artifact energy and, mazel tov! It pushes out a duplicate of the last living thing it reflected, but this duplicate has no memories, doesn't know anything of the original. And apparently if it doesn't do this something bad happens – I'm still translating that section. But all this is linked to those glowing gems, which aren't gems but plastic covers over LEDs. They were installed on the mirror in the early '80s so that people would know when it was time for the newborn. So that's how we ended up with a duplicate of Myka that knows absolutely nothing."

Artie took in the news. He pushed his glasses up his nose and then stood and headed upstairs. Everyone let out an exasperated breath and followed him. They were not about to let him kill Mykayla.

#

Artie heard singing coming from Myka's bedroom. He walked over to the half open door and quietly slipped inside. Myka sat on the edge of the bed, next to Makayla. The clone was curled around Myka with an arm draped over Myka's leg. Her eyes were heavy with sleep but she was fighting it. Myka gently rubbed her back, quietly singing 'Hush Little Baby.'

He realized he'd heard Myka hum, but never sing, and her voice was pitch perfect and soothing. He sat down on a chair against the wall, watching the two.

As the song drew to a close, Makayla's eyes drifted closed. Myka sat for several minutes, humming the song. Slowly she picked up Makayla's arm and stood, then tucked it under the blanket and covered her. She turned to Artie, made eye contact, and then left the room. He followed her out. She closed the door most of the way before turning to him.

"You are not killing her," Myka told him. "I will stop you if you try."

Artie sighed. "I have no doubt. Does she really know nothing?"

"She doesn't even know how to say simple words. Although in the tub we did learn 'duck.' She also really like the word Regents. I was telling her that they would help us find a good place for her to grow up and she kept repeating the word. Artie, I know she looks like me, but inside she is a scared little girl, and I know her life is going to be pretty short, but she's innocent. Please don't follow this protocol. Let her live as long as she can."

"She cannot stay here, Myka."

"I know."

"And there will be no argument about where she goes."

Myka started to shake her head.

"I will try to put her with someone who can take care of her, not in an institution. If she can learn, then she doesn't need that."

Myka smiled. "She seems really smart. She does already know duck."

Artie sighed, shaking his head a little. "Hardly a milestone."

"You'll talk to the Regents then?" Pete asked.

He turned. The others were standing on the stairs.

"Yes. I will present this as an exception. Now, Claudia, you need to find a way to monitor that mirror. When it gets to be that time, we're putting a plant or a goldfish or something that we can rehome without lying to the government about birthdates!" Artie headed back down the stairs. "I should fire all of you and just get a whole new team! You four are going to drive me to an early grave!"

Claudia leaned over the railing, telling him, "Thanks, dad!"

The front door opened and closed. Remembering to be quiet, the group cheered for their victory.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Six months later**

Warren and Jeanie Bering looked up when the front door of the bookstore opened.

"MYKA!" Jeanie cried at the sight of her daughter.

Myka smiled. Jeanie hurried around the counter and hugged her. She smiled at her father, hugging him next.

"Can you close early today? I need to talk to you both."

"Sure."

Warren turned the open sign and the three walked to the apartment at the back of the bookstore. Along the way Myka let her fingers run across the spines of the books. Before joining them, Jeanie poured a cup of coffee for Warren and put on a kettle of water on the stove. Warren and Myka sat down at the table and Myka let out a slow sigh, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You look tired," Warren told her.

She smiled wearily at him. "I am very tired. I've been doing two jobs and, mom, do I ever have a newfound respect for what it was like to run a store and raise two girls."

Her mother stared at her. Warren was also a little floored by the comment.

"What are you saying, Myka?" Jeanie asked,

Myka sat back in her chair, looking at her parents. "Mom, Dad, there are a lot of details I cannot tell you here, but I have a huge favor to ask. I'll tell you all that I can though. I was involved in an accident at work." Myka smiled, drawing circles on the table with her finger. "And something really good came out of it. Something I didn't expect but I can't remember ever being without now." A tear slipped down her face. "But, today was going to happen one way or another, and so I asked my superiors if I could first ask my family to take her in, because she's a part of me and she needs a good home, with good parents who will raise her as well as they did me."

Myka looked up at the two.

"You had a baby? How was that an accident at work?" Warren asked.

"No. I didn't have a baby. Not in the classic sense, anyway. Do you want to meet her? Her name is Mykayla, spelled like my name but with –yla at the end."

"Yes. Of course we want to meet her."

Myka dug her cell phone from her pocket and called someone. "Hey. Come on in. We're in the kitchen." She hung up. "That was Pete. He was waiting at the ice cream store across the street. She likes strawberry the best but she'll eat practically any ice cream. But you two cannot give her a lot. She doesn't handle sugar well. And she doesn't like going to bed on time, but I make her any way. And, on top of everything else, mom, you have to work with her on the monthly visitor, and I am going to warn you both that two days before she starts she is an emotional wreck."

"This sounded like it was a baby right up until then," Warren said.

Myka smiled.

"Momma?" they heard a female voice call out.

"I'm back here, honey," Myka called. "With Grandma Jeanie and Grandpa Warren."

They heard running and Makayla burst into the kitchen. She stopped just inside the door, staring at Jeanie and Warren. The two stared back. Pete came in behind her and waited with her.

"Sweetheart, sit down," Myka told her, patting a chair next to her.

"No sitting," Mykayla told her.

"Fine. I'm sitting there. You can sit on the trashcan," Pete told her.

The race was on to get to the last open chair. Pete had every intention of letting her sit in the chair but played their game to make Mykayla think she'd won the chair

"Ah man!" Pete said. "You beat me!"

"Trash," Mykayla pointed at the trash can.

He leaned against the wall nearby. "I'm going to hold up the wall, just in case."

Myka watched her parents, Pete, and Mykayla.

"She looks just like you," Jeannie said.

"Yeah. Like I said, it was an accident. A clone of me was created. She looks just like me, but she's only been in the world for six months. Makayla is very smart. We started first grade last week and she'd doing great." Myka leaned forward, wrinkling her nose at her. Mykayla imitated her. "Course, getting her to do her lessons has been a challenge. She'd rather play, play, play."

Mykayla leaned in, rubbing her nose to Myka's with a grin.

"Eskimo kisses," Warren said.

Mykayla turned her head, staring at him. Slowly she leaned toward him. He smiled, leaned forward, and they exchanged an Eskimo kiss. She giggled, curling into her chair. Warren tapped her nose.

"Silly girl," he told her.

Jeannie looked surprised for a moment, but then smiled.

"So you need her to live with us?" Warren asked.

"Yes. We tried a few other places, but they didn't take. The people just didn't get her. Not like you two could. Strangely, she acts a lot like Tracy."

The teapot started whistling.

"Cocoa!" Mykayla cried.

"Ask nice," Pete reminded her.

She dropped her head back, sticking her tongue out at him. He tried to grab it and she ducked her head away.

"Please, cocoa?" Mykayla asked.

"Good manners!" Myka told her.

"They are! Good job, Mykayla," Jeannie told her.

"Kay."

"Oh. Yeah. Her nickname is Kay and she likes it better than her full name," Myka told them.

"Do we put marshmallows in the cocoa, Kay?" Jeanie asked.

"Yes?" Kay asked.

"Come show me how many, sweetheart," Jeannie said.

Mykayla jumped up and ran over to show her. Pete slid into the open chair. He looked at Myka. She was staring at her hands and was close to tears. He rubbed her arm. She looked at her father when he took her hand. He smiled.

"Of course we'll take care of her," he told her. "She's our granddaughter."

Myka started crying. "Yeah," she quietly told him. "I'm going to stay for a couple weeks, make sure she's settled."

"That's a good idea. We can see what she likes best around here and in Denver."

"Dave and Busters was a big hit when I took her," Myka said.

"Oh, but stay away from carnival rides. She doesn't do well on those rides," Pete told him. "I found out that the hard way."

Warren leaned over his coffee cup. "You know, this one puked on me the first time I took her on the Ferris wheel."

"Dad!"

Jeanie and Mykayla left and returned with another chair. They sat down and the family swapped stories and tall tales. When Mykayla leaned against Jeannie and fell asleep, Myka knew she'd made the right decision persuading the Regents to let her parents care for her. She was home here too.


End file.
